


The Dressing Room

by steve_it_only_hurt_a_little_rogers



Series: The Author is Being Self indulgent and Borderline Creepy [10]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Chris Evans - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Daddy Kink, F/M, I'm Going to Hell, Masterbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 00:47:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9098119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steve_it_only_hurt_a_little_rogers/pseuds/steve_it_only_hurt_a_little_rogers
Summary: Set in the “Bad Teacher" universe. It's the dressing room story.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My New Year's resolution? To get this out before midnight so I can start the year pure. Happy Holidays everyone!

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Damn it," you sighed, “This was cheap too..."

You frowned at the dressing room mirror. This skirt you picked out was everything. Cute, pleated, black. The only thing it wasn't? Long enough. It fell half an inch above your midthigh, no way were you wearing it in a lecture hall full of horny college freshman looking for an easy A.

Today, you went to your favorite department store to pick up some more work clothes. Since the university you taught at made you head of the art education department as a reward for getting your doctorate, you wanted to step up your wardrobe even further.

You ~~dragged~~  brought your husband along for his second opinion on the clothing you picked out. A pointless venture since he thought everything and anything looked fine on you, so he was bored out of his skull. But he just came back from filming to watch you graduate, you've been busy actually finishing your degree, and you two were going to spend more time together if it killed him!

“(Y/N)...." he called from outside.

“Almost done, Christopher!" you said in a sing song voice.

You looked away from the mirror to the other items you put on the hook just as the door to your stall creaked open.

“That's what you said....ten....minutes...."

Chris' argument died in his mouth as he looked you up and down. You put your hands on your hips and glared at him. How'd he even get in?!

“Christopher Robert, get-!"

Your husband put one hand over your mouth and the other tucked a lock of your hair gently behind your ear. The lust in his eyes was unmistakable, complementing the growing length you felt on your thigh.

“And why didn't I get to see _this_ one, little miss?" Chris asked.

You raised an eyebrow and, Chris, moved his hands to your butt. You felt the click of realization go through your head and laughed.

“Chris," you scoffed, “I would've worn this skirt to a party back in undergrad, not to a faculty meeting."

“You could wear it for me...show twenty one year old me a good time..."

“Isn't that when you did 'Not Another Te-'?."

“(Y/N). Shhhhh."

He started kissing your neck, his beard rubbing against your skin in the ways you not so secretly loved most. At the sounds of your small whines, you felt, Chris, smirk and push you against him to gind on you and knead your butt. You sighed wantonly at the familiar feeling both your bodies heating up, but given your current surroundings you had to be the rational one.

“Chris.  _Chris,"_ you began.

Knowing you too well, your husband covered your mouth again.

“Do you really want me to stop?"

He looked at you with a genuine sincerity and you knew he wouldn't hold it against you if you told him to leave, but now he had worked you up and you _really_ wanted him. You shook your head and he backed away from you a bit. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, but your husband just grinned and licked his lips.

“Turn around so, Daddy, can see that pretty little ass, baby girl." 

You rolled your eyes did as you were told making sure to stick out your butt a bit. You heard a curse and the sound of his jeans being undone. In the mirror, you saw, Chris, take his cock out and start to pleasure himself looking at you the entire time. He was there, but not there enough. 

You were about to ask him if there's anything you can do to help him along when you spotted your shoes on underneath the bench. Not the sneakers you wore for walking around today, but the nude heels you found. They were too high for practical use, but your husband loved you in heels and they were on sale. 

You smiled and sat down. Chris frowned in irritation, but soon started working himself faster when you unbuttoned your white, sleeveless blouse. 

“Fuck! Show me those perfect tits, sugar..."

You bent over, slid your shoes out, and on. Then you reached up under your blouse, unhooked your plain, white bra, and slowly slid it off. Chris bit his lip, closed his eyes, and went a little slower over his shaft, no doubt thinking about the times his cock's been been between your boobs.

“Perfect..."  he sighed.

“Oh, Christopher..."

Chris' fully dilated eyes opened to find you standing in front of the mirror. He went slowly from the dark coils of your hair, made a pit stop at the curves of your chest, down to your six inch peep toes. He took his hand off his fully hard and dripping length.

“Underwear off," he ordered, “On your hands and knees."

“Yes, _sir,"_ you teased.

You slowly turned and shimmied out of your undies, making sure your heels clicked with every step. You got on the floor like he asked and immediately felt a warm hand on your butt and the other rubbed gentle circles into your clit. You whined at the feeling and, Chris, ran his fingers through your slick folds before going back up.

“You ready for me, sugar?"

“Yes, yes! Please!"

“Shhh, baby."

You felt a very welcomed burning stretch and let out moan as, Chris, made himself comfortable inside you. Your eyes closed and you laid your head down on the cool tile floor only to have it yanked back up by the hair and turned to the mirror. Before he could ask, you mouthed “green" to let him know he didn't hurt you. Chris nodded.

“You watch me fuck you, sugar!" he commanded in a near whisper, “You watch my dick ruin you for anyone else!"

“There is no one else  _sir,"_ you smiled quietly.

“You're damn right!"

He began moving his hips, fucking you like his life depended on it. You did as you were told and kept eye contact with where your bodies joined. You watched his cock disappear and reappear almost to fast to see, you watched it swell even further, giving you both even more resistance friction, but mostly you watched your husband lose himself inside you.

His eyebrows knitted together in concentration, trying to get you off before himself, his eyes scrunched closed like the sight of you would be too much to handle, and his mouth hanging open forming silent words and barely audible noises of ecstasy. It was just too much.

At that moment, Chris' eyes flew open, he sat you up, and held your head back so you looked directly into his black with a ring of blue eyes.

“Fuck, my skanky little professor's taking my dick so well..." he moaned, “Mmmm...what if I did fuck you in your room, sugar? What if I threw you on your desk and fucked the shit out of you?"

Your husband's grunts and thrusts became deeper and harder as he thought about taking what he wanted from you in your classroom. You never realized how much your work clothes got to him.

“Pin you to your chalkboard, have you begging for _my_ dick and only _mine_ to be pounding that perfect cunt..."

Chris dug his hand in your hair to hold your head still while attacking your neck again. He was no doubt leaving marks impossible for you to hide.

“Have you in nothing but your damned heels?" he said in between nips at your jawline, “Remind you and everyone else who you belong t-oh yes, oh shit _yes..."_

He sped up again, but didn't want to satisfy himself before you, so he grabbed your breasts and started putting his hands to use on them, looking at your reflection so he could read your facial expressions.

“Oh, oh, Daddy, you feel so good, sir!"

His cursing became slightly lower in pitch and his hand moved to your clit the second you gave into his kink. He started pinching and rubbing in accordance to the noises you made.

“That's it, baby girl," he encouraged, “Sing for Daddy..."

The coil in your stomach tightened almost beyond what you could handle, the friction between you and your husband heated everything around you, the tiny room filled with the sounds of skin hitting skin and his and your pleasure. Somehow through all that one thought permeated your mind.

“Christopher Robert, I'm _not_ buying this! Don't you _dare_ come in this skmmmmmm! _"_

He kissed you, practically shoving his tongue down your throat while rubbing hard circles into your clit. You succumbed to the feeling and came around him, whispering his name like a prayer. Unfortunately, that set him off. He all he needed was a couple more hard slams into you and-

“Oh fuck, sugar, fuckfuckfuck _FUCK!"_

He finshed balls deep inside you. You could feel his come dripping out of you and no doubt onto the back inside of the skirt. You glared at him. He smiled wide at you, completely blissed out.

“Sorry, (Y/N)...." he blushed.

* * *

 

“Christopher, can you tell me how much this price tag says?"

“Uh...twelve dollars?"

“That's right. It's also how many days that it's just you and your hand."

“What? No, come on!"

**Author's Note:**

> Before you say anything, yes I know he was 20 not 21 when he did “Not Another Teen Movie".
> 
> Find me at: steve-it-hurt-a-little-rogers.tumblr.com


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